


It Sucks to be an Empath, It's Great to be an Empath

by RyanDamion



Category: Original Work
Genre: Empathy, Feelings of isolation, I'm not Will Graham, loss of self, mentions of self harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-02
Updated: 2016-08-02
Packaged: 2018-07-28 19:18:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7653574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RyanDamion/pseuds/RyanDamion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It sucks to be an empath. It's great to be an empath. It sucks to be an author who can't write a summary. It's great to be a reader who realizes that the story is better than the summary.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It Sucks to be an Empath, It's Great to be an Empath

It sucks to be an empath. It sucks to spend most of your time inside somebody else's head, to have somebody else's problems and thoughts. 

I'll sit down for my first period Chinese class and become jittery and anxious as I pick up on the nervousness of the new teacher who doesn't speak much English, and who worries about what the students will think of him on his first day.

I'll tap my feet and stutter when someone talks to me, and I'll feel completely alienated from everyone around me. Then my tablemate will sit down next to me and I'll become an overly aggressive alpha male filled to the brim with testosterone.

I'll talk too loudly and crack offensive jokes in the back of the room. I'll humiliate the new teacher, and fill him with the feeling of isolation which will send him home in tears. I walk out of the Chinese class and will immediately be swallowed up by new wave of emotions from passersby. 

It's great to be an empath. It's great to spend most of your time inside somebody else's head, to have somebody else's problems and thoughts. I'll sit down in my second period chemistry class and be relaxed and calm, since that's how the teacher always feels after his morning walk to school and coffee. I'll sit down at my desk, right next to his, and be able to forget about the stares and whispers that follow me around from emotion to emotion. I'll be able to forget about the thin red lines that dance around my wrists, and I'll be able to interact with the teacher like any other normal person. 

Being an empath means sometimes forgetting who you are. It means getting lost in other people's heads and occasionally losing yourself in the process. It means being an emotional soup when you walk down the street, and it means hoping and praying to god you may or may not believe in that everybody took their meds this morning and that you don't cross paths with anybody who feels particularly murderous or suicidal because you know that will be _you _in a matter of seconds.__

Being an empath means finding something to ground you. It means pinching or poking, holding a flame to your skin, or slicing a blade across your arms and legs to pull you back, to remind you of who _"you" _are.__

Being an empath means being completely and totally numb when you're alone in blessed isolation, and it means avoiding people for days or weeks at a time so that you may retain that sacred idea of self and not lose yourself back into a smoothie of blended up emotions from a million different people dealing with a million different problems fighting a million different fights that _you _can't win.__

**Author's Note:**

> I'd love some feedback if you have the time, and feel free to check out my other work if you want something else boring to read


End file.
